


Leave Me Be

by dragongummy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Broken Dean, Daddy Issues, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Graphic Violence, Hellhounds, Hellverse!DEAN, Hurt Dean Winchester, Nightmares, Other, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychological Warfare, Self-Denial, Violence, are you ready, oh god here we go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongummy/pseuds/dragongummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Dean in Hell?</p><p>WARNING: May cause tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Me Be

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you everyone for your support! Because of you, I've been mentioned in a podcast, been contacted by publishers; there may be something bigger in the works.  
> I AM SO HAPPY AND EXCITED AND IM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY OF 5 YEARS. I have a lot of fics to update (you guys remind me daily!!!)  
> And I also debut my very first (and maybe only) Supernatural fics (my favorite show and I've been so afraid to write anything at all for the fandom in fear it would do it a disservice). I'm a little proud of it.
> 
> Feedback is always loved.  
> Thank you all!

Once Dean had lost so much blood from the hooks that he went numb, he actually thought it wouldn’t be that bad. Then the hellfire came. Then the hounds. Then the hooks had ripped apart what was left of his body.

Then it was reversed, he felt himself stitched back together and it was pure agony, it was  _terror_. And Dean wasn’t used to being frightened but he  _was_   and he can remember all the times _when_ he was...like when his father-

The splitting of his side pulls him back, always, always. Claws and forked tongues and lies and laughter pulsed in his brain. He took refuge in their insults so he could concentrate on anything but his skin being flaked off.

Then came Alastair. They had an intimate connection. Alastair knew him, and knew his insecurities. His weaknesses. He knew his daddy issues, his self loathing, his fear of losing control, his internal confusion, his need to protect and his need to self destruct. He knew him intimately, knew where he was ticklish and knew where he was turned on. 

The things Alastair whispered to him were between only them. Some days Dean would push himself into the blade in Alastair’s hand to die faster, growling and snarling his defiance. Other times after Alastair had broken him down using the voice of John Winchester telling him how ‘Boys don’t cry, Dean,” and “Man up,” and a selected few times, “Get up, you’re fine.” Dean is loud these times, screaming his self hatred into the firey void as John laughs in his ear.

He holds Dean sometimes too, his hand clamped over Dean’s mouth when his whimpers become too loud. Alastair is actually impressed by the pain Dean can take before the blood bubbles over the top of his mouth and he stares into Dean’s eyes as the pupils dilate. 

Alastair lets him humor himself by allowing him to call out to Sam sometimes. Most times he isn’t alive long enough to get to that point of desperation. But who knows? It’s early yet. Alastair pets his hair, his nails cutting deep into his scalp. He forces Dean to look up at him.

"Good morning, Dean. Day 3!"

And after he’s had enough, after his eyes melt from its sockets from the pain does he jolt awake. He runs his shaking hands up his arms to feel the skin there and when he does it feels  _eerie_  and he’s not himself, he’s not  _ever_  going to be who he was anymore.

The sheets are wet and he cries until he passes out. 

Then comes the hellfire.

Then the hounds.

Then the hooks rip apart what’s left.

\- - - -

Then the flashes of a distorted face of himself with wild eyes cutting into men and women’s intestines and cackling.

The demon inside him emerged and alive with its head thrown back and knife slicing through the air until it connected with flesh.

He jerks awake with wet eyes to Sam facing him with his eyes open. Watching him. With sadness and pity and remorse and everything else. Because Sam knows. He knows that Hell broke him. It tore him open and took away from him everything that he was. Replaced it with anger and violence and fear and self doubt. Took everything that was wrong with him from deep inside and turned him inside out to bear his insecurities for everyone to see. Sam knew Dean was twisted.

Dean has to roll over.

_He wishes he couldn’t feel a damn thing._


End file.
